


Emerald Eyes

by MellytheHun



Series: Tumblr Sterek Prompts [18]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Confused Stiles, Controlling Lydia, First Kiss, Fluff, Getting Together, Jealous Stiles, Jealousy, M/M, Matchmaker Lydia, Oblivious Derek, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Pining, Possessive Stiles, Prompt Fic, Rejection, Sassy Lydia, This isn't how you solve problems, Tumblr Prompt, but it's fic so, problematic characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-05
Updated: 2019-06-05
Packaged: 2020-04-08 03:19:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19098697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MellytheHun/pseuds/MellytheHun
Summary: Prompt: Hi! I was thinking maybe "enamor me" for Sterek? Like Derek trying to woo Stiles but Stiles doesn't want to date him (you choose the reason why) until the very end. Thank you! You're a great writer!Leave an “Enamor Me” in my ask, and I will write a fluffy drabble about my character trying to woo yours [be it out of the blue/Valentines Day, feel free to specify.]This features jealous and possessive!Stiles. Lydia being an evil genius, and Derek sort of just along for the ride.





	Emerald Eyes

Stiles knows he’s made a grave error when Lydia glares dangerously at him in disbelief. 

“Say that again?”

“Uhm,” Stiles hesitates nervously, “So, I… I - ”

“Did you just say you _turned Derek down_?”

"What? What? Seriously! What?? Why are you looking at me like that?” Stiles begs, throwing his arms in the air, “He’s _old_!”

"Stiles!” Lydia cries, “You are the most thoughtless clod to ever walk the Earth!”

“He’s a decade older than me!”

“Ugh!” Lydia groans, slamming her locker closed, “Beautiful men, and ridiculous opportunities are wasted on you!”

She holds her textbooks to her chest, and starts walking away from him, clearly frustrated with him.

He runs after her, gesticulating, and defending, “that is so unfair! He’s _old_ , he _always_ argues with Scott — do you know how freaked out Scott would be?”

“Oh, so if Scott doesn’t approve, you wouldn’t date someone?" Lydia asks in a tone that dares him to agree, "They have to _appease_ Scott?”

“No,” Stiles says unsurely at first - quickly shifting to a more confident tone when Lydia gives him an angry side-glance, “I mean, no, _no_. I would prefer he like them? That’s beside the point, Lydia. He’s _old_.”

Lydia rolls her eyes, and starts haughtily, “you know what old - in this particular case - really means, Stiles?”

Stiles looks at her in wait until she finishes, “financial independence, emotional stability, and sexual maturity. That’s what it means.”

Stiles opens his mouth to argue, but Lydia orders, "ugh - I hate you right now. Tell me what happened again. Slowly.”

Stiles sighs, and repeats his story; “he was with me while I was looking up all that incubus information for him. He helped me figure something out, and I got a little close into his space, cause I was excited or whatever, and he leaned in to kiss me. I told him it was a no-go, he backed off before anything happened, and left shortly after.”

Lydia glares at him.

” _What_?” Stiles shouts.

“You are _moron_ , that’s what!”

"Why does that make me a moron?! What should I have done? Let him kiss me? Dated him?” Stiles asks, as if it’s absurd.

“Yes!” Lydia seethes, “Yes, actually! You’re a moron, because we all know you’ve got feelings for him! You couldn’t have asked for a better opportunity, Stiles!”

“Derek is a grown man with a horrible track record. He needs something _stable_ , Lydia,” Stiles insists, “He shouldn’t be dating someone who’s — “

Lydia’s eyes darken like never before, and Stiles shuts his mouth.

Stiles could swear shadows grow on the walls around them, suffocating the place of air, and light.

She starts eerily, "are you telling me… that you turned Derek down for his _own good_?”

That’s a rhetorical question, Stiles is sure.

So he waits for her to sneer, "that’s just… gross, Stiles. You’re not his guardian, and it’s not your job to make decisions for what’s best for him. He reached out to you like an equal, and you treated him like he was below you. Like you have any authority to make that choice for him.”

Stiles teeth grind, because he can’t deny it, and he hadn’t thought of it that way.

Lydia shakes her head, and sticks a knife through his heart when she mutters, “so many other people have dictated what Derek's life is supposed to be like - he's always being controlled by everyone else. If it had been because you genuinely didn't want to have a relationship with him, I'd give you some shit, then leave it, but you know how Derek is. He cares about you. In a not-creepy way. He's not a weird, predatory guy. He has feelings for you, and instead of letting him know you feel the same way, you controlled the outcome of his risk-taking, cause you think you're allowed to dictate what's good for him. If I had done that to you when you were into me, you'd have never stopped being mad over it. I thought you were better than that, Stiles.”

Then she’s sauntering away, her heels clacking powerfully through the hall, and hair flowing behind her. 

Stiles is completely unable to pay attention in class for the rest of the day. He skips out early, and heads home to sulk.

 

* * *

 

At the next Pack meeting, Stiles sits close to Scott, and tries to be inconspicuous about not meeting Derek’s eyes.

Isaac’s eyes flash between all of them suspiciously, like he might have a clue to what happened, but he says nothing.

When Lydia walks in late into the loft late, she’s holding a glass dish topped with tinfoil.

Derek’s glare dissipates when he scents the air.

“Sorry I’m late,” she announces without sounding sorry at all.

She smiles kindly up to Derek, and offers the dish.

When he stares at her with a confused wrinkle between his brows, she says, “it’s nothing special, just baked ziti and meatballs, but I noticed how bare the refrigerator was last week. I thought I’d contribute.”

Derek takes the dish from her, and says kindly, “thank you.”

She touches his arm, in a clear flirtation, and sits down next to Stiles.

He cocks a brow at her when Derek goes into the kitchen with the dish, and Lydia mutters, “well, if _you’re_ not getting on that train, _I_ am.”

Stiles’ eyes go wide, and his heart lurches.

Scott looks to him, confused, and worried.

He shakes his head to Scott, and spends the rest of the meeting looking at his feet.

He thinks to himself that Lydia gets what she wants almost all of the time.

Derek is a person, though, not a carnival prize to be won over.

He loves Lydia dearly, but she also has a pattern of using men for her pleasure, and then leaving them when they’re no longer of use.

Typically, Stiles finds that trait admirable and terrifying, but Stiles doesn’t want that to happen to Derek.

He’s been used enough.

_Then again_ , Stiles thinks, _Lydia probably knows that._

Lydia is smart enough to know that. She knows that he’s been used too much, and she wouldn’t want to join the ranks of Kate Argent, and Jennifer Blake.

Stiles thinks that can only mean one thing.

That Lydia is serious about Derek.

Otherwise, she wouldn’t pursue him at all.

He doesn’t get why that thought makes him feel so sick. 

 

* * *

 

"So, you’re going to date him?" 

Lydia sighs while taking books from her open locker.

"Stiles, nothing has happened. I brought him food.”

“Yeah — you fed a stray, and you know what that means,” Stiles jokes darkly.

Lydia side-eyes him, and retorts, “stray or not, I know the way to a man’s heart.”

Stiles’ heart bumps nervously. 

“Bold of you to assume Derek has one.”

She rolls her eyes at him, and shuts her locker.

“You’re so immature.”

While she walks off, Stiles wonders to himself why that stings so much.

_He’s_ immature? Is that supposed to mean that _Derek_ is more mature than him? 

When did his life become a competition? 

And which competition is he even in?

 

* * *

 

Scott and Stiles show up at Lydia’s place for Kira’s birthday party, because Lydia insisted on hosting it.

There are tons of people there, and Scott complains that the entire house smells like it’s been drenched in vodka. 

They drop their presents at a labeled station for them, and when they find Kira, surrounded by classmates, Scott asks loudly over the music, “where’s Lydia?”

Kira replies, “she went upstairs — she’s on the phone with Derek.”

Stiles’ brows pull in.

“She’s on the phone with Derek?” Scott asks.

Kira nods, and explains, “they were texting all day. I think she’s trying to get him to come to the party.”

Scott looks to Stiles when Stiles’ heart does this strange squeezing thing. 

Stiles bites the inside of his cheek, and looks away. He ends up staring at the stairway to the second floor, and offers glumly, “I’ll go find her.”

Scott doesn’t stop him. 

He takes the stairs two at a time, and opens Lydia’s bedroom door to find her perched on her bed in a party dress, cellphone close to her ear.

She waves him in, and he shuts the door behind him. 

“Uh huh,” she says, “Well, don’t worry about that. I can make my gift from both of us.”

Stiles crosses his arms, and can’t help the bitchface he makes.

Her eyes roll away from him, and a smile plays across her face.

“Of course, Derek. You can owe me one.”

Stiles stands with hunched shoulders until she gets off the phone.

She looks at him and asks, “you needed something?”

“Are you going to hurt him?”

Her expression goes from flirtatious to done in .2 seconds.

“Quit it, Stiles,” she tells him, “You said it yourself — Derek is a grown man. You’re not his keeper.”

“He’s been used enough, Lydia,” he warns anyway.

She scowls at him, and says, “you don’t know anything about my intentions. I don’t even get why you think this is your business. _You_ turned Derek down. Now I know he’s okay with dating someone younger than him, and I see the possibilities.”

“What possibilities?” Stiles asks incredulously, “What are you talking about? He’s just another Ethan, or — or that blonde guy you banged for a while. You leave them all high and dry! My _suspicions_ aren’t the unusual thing here.”

She stands up, and crosses her arms.

"Derek is loyal. Derek is thoughtful, he’s intelligent, he’s educated, and independent. He’s tender under all that marble exterior, he’s strong, and interesting. He can fuck, and he can make love. He can take me out to dinner, and carry me to bed. He’ll hold my hand, and lend me his jacket, he’ll kill, and die for me.”

Stiles stares at her, unsure of what that means.

She adds, “he’s an amazing man, and a forever kind of man. He’s not a fling. He’s not the kind of guy you keep on a string. He’s the kind of guy you marry.”

Stiles’ stomach drops.

“Now, Derek is headed over for the festivities, and I need to put on a lower cut dress. So, get out of here.”

Before he knows what’s happened, he’s been kicked out of Lydia’s room, and he’s stuck standing dumbly in the hall.

He escapes to the bathroom, and tries to extinguish the burning in the pit of his stomach. 

“This is acid reflux,” Stiles assures his reflection, “Not feelings. Definitely not feelings.”

 

* * *

 

Lydia insists on hosting the next Pack meeting after that. She makes way too much food, and looks particularly pretty.

When Scott, Stiles, and Kira show up, Isaac, and Derek are already there. 

Derek is sitting on one end of the couch in a green shirt and designer jeans; he looks good.

Stiles can tell by the way he is sitting, how Isaac’s coat is still on, and how his head turned that he’s been there for a while. 

Scott walks ahead of Stiles with Kira, they greet Isaac, and sit on the opposite couch with him.

Stiles is standing in the doorway, wondering what the hell Derek could have been up to alone with Lydia. He promises himself that it would be way too fast; it couldn’t have happened yet.

_There’s no way Lydia made her move yet._

Then Lydia comes from the kitchen with cans of soda, and sits right next to Derek, despite the entire couch being open. She’s practically on his lap, and he doesn’t even bat an eye.

Stiles’ heart twists up like a towel being wrung. 

Lydia looks at Derek slyly, and Stiles finds he can’t move.

He can only back up until he’s back out the door, and headed to the Jeep. 

“Fuck,” he mutters to himself, “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.”

He hears Scott call for him, but he’s too busy fleeing to his car to escape suffocating feelings. 

He starts the car, and stalls for a second. He wonders if he should just stay in his car, and wait for someone to come out.

Scott or Lydia would come out to get him, surely.

Scott would ask him what’s wrong, and Stiles wouldn’t have the right words to explain it, and even if he did explain it, there's little chance Scott would understand being attracted to Derek. He’d put his arm around Stiles’ shoulders, though, and he’d usher him back into the house with patience.

Lydia wouldn’t be as tolerant, though. Stiles thinks Lydia would come outside, and tell him to get over himself. She’d tell him that this is his own doing, and he brought it upon himself. That he had his chance, and he intentionally shot it down for quasi-heroic motivations, and that she can’t be vilified for wanting what he willfully surrendered.

And she’d be right.

He remembers a few weeks back, when he was in his room with Derek, and Derek had found, among all those books, just the one line of text that helped him piece together everything. He looked to Derek, grinning, and pleased, and Derek’s eyes had gone all serious, and reverent.

They’d glistened, and been searching Stiles’ eyes for something.

He had tilted his head just a little, and his face was so close, Stiles was able to feel the heat coming off him. 

Derek’s skin is probably really warm, and silky soft. 

Derek had leaned in just a bit, shifted just so, and Stiles panicked. He backed up, and stammered, “we — uh, I can’t. I can’t. I’m not — I don’t… sorry.”

After a beat, Derek nodded, and let his eyes flicker down. He cleared his throat, and went back to explaining how he found the text Stiles needed. 

When he left through the window, Stiles had felt somehow abandoned. 

Just as he does now.

He sees a figure move from inside the house, and start towards the door; whoever is being sent to check on him is coming.

He shoves the car into reverse, and speeds away without looking in the rearview mirror. 

 

* * *

 

Before he’s even made it home, he gets ten texts from Scott, three missed calls from Kira, one from Lydia, and a text from Isaac.

He tries not to be disappointed that Derek didn’t check in on him. 

He gets into his room, and changes into sweats, feeling like the only way to get out of the all-consuming discomfort is through the escape of sleep.

He brushes his teeth in the bathroom, glaring at himself in the mirror as he does, because he feels stupid, and he feels dramatic, and like the Pack is wondering if he’s cut out to make it with them when he’s this sensitive. 

When he steps into his room, Derek is there.

His shoulders stiffen, and Derek asks without asking, “what’s going on.”

“Nothing. What are you doing here?”

Derek gives him a dry look, and says, “tell me what’s wrong.”

“This is me, okay?” Stiles replies, gesturing to himself, “This is all on me. It has nothing to do - ”

“That’s a lie,” Derek says, stepping closer, “You’re about to say that this has nothing to do with anyone else, and that’s a lie.”

Stiles scowls, and feels his face get hot.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” Derek repeats.

Stiles throws his arms in the air, and says, "fine! Fine! I didn’t let you kiss me, and it’s been fucking haunting me! I didn’t think it was a good idea, I thought that you’ve been through a lot, and I’m not the best thing for you, that you need a more stable, healthy person, who's older, and better at life stuff, and then I told Lydia about throwing myself on a stupid sword like that, and Lydia called me an idiot, and told me I’m not your keeper! Which - fair, I’m not! I am totally not your keeper, and it was douchey of me to turn you down in a weird attempt of protecting you! But then Lydia started in on you, and I — I just, I — I didn’t consider what it would be like…”

He sighs in frustration, and his hands clench at his sides.

“I never had you to begin with,” he says softly, “So, I never had any right to feel like I lost you. But, when I had to start considering what life would be like when you’d be Lydia’s boyfriend, I just… I couldn’t bear it.”

Derek doesn’t move an inch, or breathe a word.

So, Stiles adds, “you deserve to be happy, and that’s been at the forefront of my mind from the start. You deserve someone you can trust, someone you can treat like an equal, and have as a partner — I… I wanna be that person, though.”

Stiles runs a hand through his hair, and admits, “ _I_ wanna be that person. She told me — she said to me that you’re not the kind of guy to keep on a string. You’re the kind of guy to marry, and she’s right. You’re a pain in my ass, don’t get me wrong, but you’re also like five hundred different kinds of wonderful, and I… I wanna be your forever guy. I wanna be the person that makes you happy, and sits too close to you on the couch, and makes sure the fridge is full. I want to take late night calls from you — I wanna dress up nice just cause I’ll get to see you. And… I gave that up out of some weird, and totally misplaced sense of guardianship. And, I’m sorry.”

He and Derek stand in the silence for a long few moments. 

Then Stiles notices Derek smirking.

“What?” Stiles asks.

“Lydia has been messing with you,” Derek replies.

Stiles cocks a brow, and Derek explains, “she called me three weeks ago, and told me to 'keep quiet, and play along, because she was teaching you a lesson.'”

Stiles gapes, and considers stomping over to her house just to flail and scream at her. 

“I guess I was the lesson,” Derek says shyly.

Stiles moves his focus back onto Derek, and asks, “is it too late for me to take you up on that kiss?”

Derek strides into his space, cups Stiles’ face in both his hands and kisses him hard.

Stiles grabs onto his upper arms, and sighs against Derek’s mouth — he was right, Derek’s skin is toasty warm, and satin soft. His stubble is an incredible contrast to how soft, and full Derek’s lips are against him. It feels right.

When they fall onto Stiles’ bed, they’re both too distracted to hear the buzz of Stiles’ phone.

**Lydia: don’t fuck it up this time! ilu <3**


End file.
